July 9, 2000
Afternoon showers and the cool breeze of a Milwaukee evening could neither dampen my spirits nor keep me from feeling the warm rush of excitement that comes with being a wiener.
That's right a wiener! The proud tradition of the post sixth inning sausage races at Milwaukee's County Stadium saw me run from behind into victory lane as a nine-foot tall Italian Sausage.
Brother Ryan had been working for the Brewer's ground crew all summer and with a little help from his friends, I was able to slip into the #3 uniform and cruise to victory in front of cheering and jeering fans.
It was a come-from-behind victory and a close finish as I fought from the back of the pack and into the lead. Despite a final push from brother Ryan I was able to pull back into the lead position and was first through the tape.
This all may sound quite strange I understand, but believe me it is quite a rush. It began earlier in the summer as mom and dad returned from a trip to the ballpark and said, "Your brother's a sausage." I was in stitches and later saw it first hand on a TBS broadcast of a Brewers/Braves match-up. Ryan's distinctive style could be easily recognized as he crossed the finish line in first place on national cable television! "It's for the kids," he would humbly tell me later of his flamboyant style.
And then, during the Fourth of July weekend after two games at County Stadium with mom, dad and Rachel I was propositioned with the idea of running the race myself! I carefully researched and studied the moves and gestures I might be able to insert into my grand race.
A week later, I carefully slipped into the Italian Sausage outfit. We made our way to the left field gate stopping for pictures and to receive cheers and jeers from fans in the left field bleachers. The race would soon begin.
After the final out of the sixth inning, the gate was opened and I stepped out on to the warning track. I silently thought to myself, "Wow! I'm a giant sausage!" The race began as 25,000 fans screamed and hollered.
I was slow out of the gates suddenly recognizing the difficulty of running with any dexterity while feeling every wiggle of the enormous costume from my knees to three feet beyond the top of my head. I would focus and find myself nearing the pack. By the visitor's dugout I was in the lead and held off a final surge to secure the victory!
O.K. it's partially staged. I knew I was going to be allowed to win, but strangely it is still quite a burst of adrenaline. I looked up behind home plate to our seats and saw my pal Tim (who was unaware of my involvement until I stepped out from the left field wall) hollering and dancing like I'd just won the Super Bowl.
It was an experience I will not soon forget. Fans high-fived me as I walked up through the stands back to the locker room. One fan expressed his dislike for me as he had apparently not seen my star potential while placing his bet. Despite his unfriendly greeting, I was smiling beneath the proud #3. Tonight I was the best sausage in the ballpark.
The dude on the left is a new addition since my big race.
I still have a soft spot in my heart for good ol' #3!
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